Northbound

This one’s about ambivalence found asking for an ambulance while I am gone, scaling a fence, and diving through the aspens. It’s about making things happen with the smooth flick of a match then acting properly panicked when the fire gains some traction. For just 10 bucks of gas, we are watching things age fast – watching cells grow old in the smoked blink of an eye. And I can hide for many months without even a peek to see what’s left or try to speak to someone who remembers me from that night or those nights or flashlight tag fistfights or asking what’s the right direction of wind?

Secret smuggler, sometimes lover – running for the blessed cover of the trees and forest shadows – scent of smoke and blood and cattle mixing with the sticky mud. The earth’s own blood – smashed and busted, grass and guts all over me – a crime scene that the lean of heart would never let their children see. Northbound tonight. Feeling free.